“Oh. Someone…someone is coming over? Should I take off for a while and let you…whatever?”
I bat at his chest playfully. “No, silly. You. You're my date.”
“You put that on…for me?” His face speaks disbelief.
“Of course I did. I need you to feel special, Chris. You’re so very special. You deserve to feel like the man of the house. Daddy says that’s what you are now, so I ought to treat you like that.”
“I don’t…I don’t know that I follow you, Constance.”
I giggle again, stepping closer. I take one of his strong hands in mine. They’re so big and large next to my dainty little palms and fingers.
“Oh, that’s all right. You don’t have to follow me at all. In fact, I’m the one who wants to follow you, silly.”
Licking my lips, I move one high-heeled foot forward, sliding it up his leg.
“What the hell?”
He steps backward, shaking his head.
“What the hell are you doing, Constance? Why are you dressed like such a slut? And why are you…why are you coming on to me? I mean, goddamn Constance. Put some clothes on, huh?”
I shake my pretty head, pouting. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Chris.”
“I mean you’re all dressed like a whore, to be frank. It’s…it’s off-putting. Don’t do it.”
With another smile and a giggle, I drop to my knees in front of him. He’s right in front of the bookshelf now, unable to back up anymore. Intense, devastating longing fills my face as I stare at his crotch and then up at him, my fingers floating up to his thighs.
“Are you sure you don’t like it?”
I place my dainty hand on his crotch, feeling there. There’s activity…but not much. He still is trying to squirm away.
“Are you sure you don’t like the thought of you…and me…all alone all weekend, with me begging for you to fuck my hot teenager face just like you’ve been born to do?”
“Constance…Constance, holy god Constance…”
My fingers slide to his zipper, beginning to pull it down. I stop for just one moment, relishing the moment—a mistake. He takes advantage of my hesitation and slips away.
“You’re fucking crazy!”
He storms upstairs, going directly to his room and shutting the door. He leaves his bag behind.
I hope he starts jerking off. I hope he jerks off thinking about my socks, thinking about my sexy socked legs sliding around his, needing him, pulling him close. I hope my brother strokes his cock thinking about his hot little sister, needing him, begging him to unleash his hot perfect cock on her.
But, I have no way of knowing what he’s jerking off to, or even if he’s jerking off at all.
How disappointing.
Daddy will be very displeased if I don’t show Chris how he’s the real man of the house now. And I can do many things in this house, but displeasing Daddy is not one of them. I’d rather die.
So, the direct approach wasn’t working. Luckily Daddy left me with an alternative.
I strut back upstairs to my room and grab my special crystal out from the drawer in my room. It’s so wonderful. It’s sparkly and violet, about the size of a thumb. For a moment I just watch its perfect sparkles and vibrations, loving the sight of it.
Its power doesn’t affect the person who picks it up, of course. No one would ever get anything done with it if that were the case. Daddy explained all about how it works to me.
Daddy didn’t need the crystal anymore. He had hypnotized Mommy, the twenty-three year-old twin Latino sisters next door, and the beautiful Asian housekeeper of the millionaires down the street (after taking three-quarters of the millionaires' fortune, of course). For the rest of his life, he’ll be adored by gorgeous hot babes and do it all in perfect luxury, just like he deserves.
I stroll over to the door of Chris’s room down the hall, wearing the crystal like a pendant with it dangling in my cleavage.
For a few minutes, he ignores my insistent, rhythmic knocking.
Then, apparently, he has enough.
“Knock it off, will you?” he shouts through the door. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“So am I!” I enthuse. “I’d like concentrate on a conversation with you.”
“I don’t care! You’ll probably try and…I don’t know, be weird again. It’s not cool, Constance.”
I stroke the door, kissing it just slightly. I want the heat of my need pressing in on him in every way.
“Please come out, Chris. Or let me come in. Let me apologize.”
“You can apologize from there.”
“Not properly though. I want to look you in the eyes so you know I mean it. Please?”